


(I Wanna Feel Like) Fireworks in the Night

by dinosaur



Series: night city grows [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexuality, Demisexuality, Dom Zayn, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, OT5, Offscreen Cissexism, Other, Subspace, Talk of Past Internalized Acephobia, Texas, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaur/pseuds/dinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not quite. My thing.” Niall tells the table. “The raunchy part, not the regular –some part.” He waves vaguely like that’ll explain the complexities of <i>I thought I was broken</i> and <i>they gave me a home</i>. </p><p>-</p><p>Niall is ace, Louis is demi, the bar is on 5th and Lavaca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I Wanna Feel Like) Fireworks in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almizil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almizil/gifts).



> For the prompt: “Ace fic. Literally just make one or both of them asexual.” 
> 
> Hope it’s what you were looking for, honey!
> 
> Niall is asexual and Louis is demisensual. There is (offscreen pre-negotiated) public, nonsexual d/s scening by two characters. Harry is trans and uses the pronouns ze/zir. There is no bar called Paul’s on 5th and Lavaca.
> 
> Title from Sunburns – Youth, which was p much on replay for the whole of writing this piece. Thanks alt rock for being so good to nouis and thanks to my beta and the exchange mods for being so good to me.

Niall swings a step over someone’s leg yearning to be trampled. Middle of the aisle, honestly. Asshole, he thinks firmly at the back of their head. Then rolls his eyes and juggles the 3 glasses in his hands to the edge of the table where Zayn and Harry waiting. 

The sugary half frozen strawberry excuse for a drink goes to Zayn, who’s driving tonight yeah, but also has an intensely and really badly hidden sweet tooth. Zayn’s a good nut, Niall thinks fondly. He waves off the bill Zayn tries to toss him and slumps into his chair. They’re gonna be here hours, the rounds’ll get around.

Harry, on the other hand, is probably just a nut. Ze’s already halfway through zir Texas tea. There’s gotta be at least 12 curls trying to fall into the glass from where Harry’s hunched over it. Niall would shake his head but 12 curls is actually not that many for a Harry mop. He raises his own glass in a toast. 

“Sweeeeet. Teeea. _Sweet._ Tea.” Harry says, like it’s genuinely funny and like ze doesn’t make this joke every time.

It’s not remotely funny. Niall laughs anyway. 

“Don’t.” Zayn glares at Harry as he says it, but there’s a smile tucked into the corners of his eyes.

“But Zayn, it’s sweet tea. It’s _sweet._ ”

Zayn eyes Harry for a second and then fists a hand in zir curls. He tugs sharply and Harry eases pliant and quiet. Niall slips his fingers against the condensation on his stein. 

Watching Zayn and Harry scene in public is a little like watching a favorite tv show re-run, Niall tends to think. You’ve seen most of it before, but it’s nice all the same. Safe, familiar, feels a bit like coming home half way through an episode, never knowing what they’ve negotiated already. 

Niall is glad they’re out tonight. He’s glad Harry is back for two weeks this time from Cali, that Zayn and zir feel safe enough in return to scene while Niall is there. He’s glad that the intricacies of all their relationships are easy and understood between them like the pizza money collection hat or the scribbled grocery lists on the backs of wrinkled Texaco receipts. Niall is exceptionally glad for good alcohol. He loses himself in the gentle fizz of well-honed hops. 

Paul’s thrums on around them, comforting in its discord. It’s perfected that half-way to seedy dive-bar atmosphere, just a few spills short of a rodeo feel. They’re dirty college students, they all sorta thrive on it. 

His fingers absently follow the bass line that’s running across the floor boards up their table. A bit away, Liam and his boots slide across the dance floor. They’ve already been here a while and those heels are three inches, if not four. How Liam does it, he’s got no goddamn clue. 

Niall settles himself firmly into himself wobbly stool with a shake. Tunes back into the table. Harry has managed to tuck zirself into the curve of Zayn’s body and zir face into the curve of Zayn’s neck. Dedicated, Niall will give Haz that. They’re at a rickety table tonight instead of their regular droopy booth. Harry has to be half over empty air. Niall presses a grin to the rim of his glass. 

“Paul’s added more amps.” Zayn says, nodding down. The daiquiri on the table is moving by itself.

“Maybe the strawberry was just drunk when Paddy mixed the Bacardi?” Niall offers.

Zayn looks straight ahead for a long moment and then says “No,” like he’s telling himself. 

Niall gives a huff half full of Heineken. Eoghan would think it was funny. They’d all come in together but Niall lost him after a bit to a group of bottle holding jeers. They’d sounded like sports psych majors. Niall’d hightailed it out. Only now, he can’t spot Eoghan in the mess of people and noise of the bar. 

“How many drinks have you had?” Zayn nudges the daiquiri like moving on its own has disqualified it from being drunk by anyone not three sheets to the wind, no matter the sugar content. 

To be honest, the consistency does look a little off. He wonders if he’s forgotten any pranks they’ve pulled on Paddy recently. He doesn’t think so, but. 

“Not enough.” Niall says, out loud. In the privacy of his head where Zayn can’t pinch him, he thinks, neither have you. 

Zayn gets looser and warmer the more he drinks. Turns soft and silly like Niall likes best. But driving safety and scening sobriety are a valid concern, he supposes. And besides, he’s got Harry to hold up. Which is a good look for both of them, anyway. 

Zayn watches him watching them and curls a small smile just for him. Niall feels it in his bones a bit, tries to give back as good as he’s getting. If the way Zayn’s eyes go bright and his eye squints come out to play, he does a pretty good job. They make silly faces at each other for a bit, with Harry humming low lines of the music circling around them. It’s good. Niall feels like he could stay here, build a home in the corners of this moment, wear it till it goes threadbare. 

Paul’s one of their favorites, and not just for the questionable college pseudo furniture that’s familiar like getting pissed in their own apartments. Paul always gives them half price shots, even when it’s not Wednesdays and Paddy cusses over all of them in a way that’s nice like home baked biscuits. Caroline always seems like she’s one hair shy of throttling all of them, but Niall’s pretty sure that’s how she expresses affection. Mostly sure. They tip really well, anyway. 

Niall’s been coming here, been getting told off by Paul, since he was 16. The rest of the boys are from out of state. They’ve been coming here and getting told off by Paul for just about two years. Goddamn shame. None of them have a good enough respect for a half-pounder. 

Speaking of. Niall mimics nibbles to Zayn. Zayn laughs sharply, bites back. Niall pumps a fist for victory and waves a hand a Caroline, waits till she cocks a yeah? at him, mimics chomping this time. 

She looks at him sorta like she’s the New York Times and she’s gonna publish another article despairing of the new generation. But, she’d also looked like that when Liam and Zayn had brought in a superhero version of Uno the other day, then she’d let Brooklyn play for 3 hours past her bed time. Niall smiles a very wide thanks at her.

By this point, Zayn’s gonna turn into a sun, how glowing he is from grinning. Niall read once about how babies do this smile that’s like the “full body smile” cause everything in them seems to light up with it. Happy face, happy atoms. He sometimes thinks Zayn never outgrew it like the rest of humanity. He nose scrunches back at him, loves him intensely.

“You’re sentimental tonight.” Zayn says, picking up on the things that matter most, in that easy way he does. Or maybe Niall’s just obvious. 

Either way, Niall shrugs. No shame there. 

A quiet murmur comes from the pile of Harry. Zayn leans down to either press kisses or whisper something to the curve of Harry’s ear in response. It’s always a tossup. Niall shoots them a thumbs up. Good showing, A+. Then grins as Zayn presses a chuckle into Harry’s temple. Cute idiots.

There’s a burst of laughter from behind them and Liam drops messily into the seat beside Niall, flush from the dance floor. The table and daiquiri do a coordinated samba in response. 

Liam says hi and then must notice Harry’s snuggle dedication as well because he shoots the zaynandharry pile a crinkly grin and thumbs-up too. Then, he snags Harry’s abandoned sweet tea and downs half the remainder in one go. 

The force of Niall’s grin makes his cheeks hurt. Liam has good priorities. 

“Looking good, Li.” Zayn says, vaguely smoldering in his general direction. Niall takes a moment to empathize with his sweating glass. 

Liam flushes. “Thanks, Z.”

Sickening, really. Niall would ask them all to live with him, but they’ve already agreed to at the end of the semester. Niall briefly considers asking again, just for funsies. 

They toast each other (“Prost!” “Niall, you’re Irish not German, can’t you remember?” “I’m drinking Heineken. It’s the spirit, you lug.” “Wouldn’t that be the draft, then? - No, don’t hit me, c’mon bro!”) and listen to a truly awful rendition of Womanizer coming from stage left. 

Paul’s has a lot of really good qualities, Niall thinks, cuddling his drink, but for being in the supposed live music capitol of the world – the live music is really not capitol. Not that Niall is gonna tell Paul that, except for the 1 or 12 times he might’ve yelled exactly that when completely sloshed. 

Niall scrunches his nose at Liam to convey this. Liam crinkles at him, nods. His long legs uncross, elegant in a way Niall never is in heels, to scoot his chair closer and drape an arm over Niall’s shoulders. Trailing his fingers across Liam’s skirt hem in response gets him a bubbly smile pressed to his shoulder. 

Niall feels contentment tingling along his limbs like good AC in September. This is one of his favorite places in the world. Tucked into the side of someone who he loves, who loves him, surrounded by cheap draft and people happy to be happy and drunk. 

It seems fitting that he catches sight of him then. He’s just piled into the bar with, or more likely, at the center of, a shouting and action packed group that’s already managed to knock over a napkin holder and a bar stool. He looks bold, red and black and unapologetic loudness. 

Louis. Niall rolls the word around in his head, because it’s private and he’s allowed to be as helplessly mushy as he wants. 

It’s not like the four of them don’t know him at all. Campus is big but it’s not big enough to hide someone like Louis, who tends to take over rooms warm and easy, in the way that feels like it’s what you wanted before you even knew Louis was a possibility. 

There’s a difference though, in admiring someone eating jelly donuts while tearing down a human sexuality prof and knowing someone well enough to tuck yourselves into their space, offer them some of your mojito. And Niall once locked himself in a single stall to prevent Harry from stealing some of his. If Niall worried about shit like that, he might be worried. Instead, he admires the sound of Louis’ voice as he hogties someone for touching him. 

His finger making a slashing motion towards the offender’s throat. Niall admires that too. 

Across the counter, Paul looks half distraught by Louis’ group and half thankful they’re getting hammered in a place where someone will take their keys off them and tip the cabbie enough to get em home. Niall smiles.

When Niall tunes back in to the table, Zayn and Liam are arguing red hots vs. yogurt pecans. Fucking northerners. Fucking Yankees. 

Niall makes a very loud deflating _fftb_ , waving his hands around like it’ll disperse the uselessness in the air. 

“Do not make me change out tabasco for the ketchup again. Fucking honestly.”

“What, again, Niall?” Liam asks, like it’s a surprise. Niall rolls his eyes to the ceiling supports for a moment and asks the worn cedar for patience, absolution and more Absolut. 

They shoot the shit for a bit. Rambling through a lemon faced professor of Niall’s (“Bout as cute as a possum.” ”What the fuck does that mean?”), a particularly douche-y coach of Liam’s (“If I have to hear ‘like a girl’ one more time, I’m gonna wear my favorite bustier out to the next meet” “. . . On one hand, Liam, I hope you don’t. On the other – “), and students of Zayn’s (“Wow.” “Yeah.”). Occasionally, they pause to beg refills off of an eye-rolling Caroline and to check on Harry, still floating a little, mostly quiet against Zayn’s side. 

The bar gets louder around them as midnight comes and goes. They slosh through 2 more drinks each, a debate about booties versus boots, featuring an auspicious moment when Liam forgets how short his skirt is tonight and tries to put his leg up on the table to demonstrate his point, and a general call to the end of mandatory ed requirements forever. Naturally ending up at the human sexuality primer they’re all dragging their feet through. 

Niall keeps his eyes on the table, tries to shove aside the hyper intense focus he has on the other side of the room where Louis is ensconced with a very large drink and a very large admiring crowd. He empathizes. Strongly.

“It’s just such shit. Biological this, hormones that.” Zayn makes a face like he’s been tricked into trying snails again. Pissed, disgusted and like someone is going down immediately.

Niall smiles. Liam and Zayn were fairly obvious about waiting to take it until the semester Niall finally decided to grit his teeth through the course. 

“And like – were you there last week?” Liam says, pushing the table into a new rhythm with the force of his agitated tapping.

Zayn wrinkles his nose perfectly. “No. Had that adviser meeting. What’d he fucking do now?”

“How’d that go, by the way?” Niall cuts in. Zayn’s been in so many meetings these past few weeks Niall thinks it should be made into a movie: 365 Advisors of Summer, an emotional story of why not to go post graduate at all, ever.

Zayn just makes a face at him and pets Harry’s hair like he’s soothing himself. Harry looks like ze’s dozed off a bit.

Liam cracks a peanut loudly. They need more food. Niall looks around for Caroline, but she’s already tapping the side of her nose at him. He swoons dramatically at her in thanks. She turns back to the bar. 

“Yuck. Anywho, he went on and on about like the definition of intimacy. Like the old toad has ever experienced it in his life.” Liam says.

“Aha! You have been reading Harry Potter, I knew it.” Niall says, jabbing Liam’s side triumphantly. 

Liam sputters a bit of margarita. “What.”

It kinda dissolves from there. Niall ends up laughing into Liam’s side, hair mussed from Liam’s headlock and Zayn launching his stash of football napkins at the both of them.

Caroline swings around and whisks away 3 glasses and 2 platters to make room for a new one. She bonks both Liam and Niall on the head and then smiles at Zayn. Niall’d get fussy but. It’s true. 

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief when Liam lets him go to start chewing loudly. It’s not like he can’t talk about the course, he’s _fine_ , everyone, thanks. Mostly, he grits his teeth, smiles and does mindless rote memorizations to get an A. He just knows the longer they stay on topic, the more like Louis is to become a Conversation Piece and Niall could really do without that ribbing. Again. 

When he subtly checks over the other end of the bar, Louis appears to have commandeered 3 different pool tables at once. He may also be flying someone’s shirt as a flag with a pool cue. Legend, Niall thinks at him in his John Wayne voice. 

As they start on the plate of perfectly crisped wedges, Zayn eases his hand away from the back of Harry’s neck with a series of taps. Ze drifts up looking serene but lightly tipped in hunger. Niall pushes the wedges towards zir a bit, just in case.

“Hey, Hazzeroo.” Liam crinkles at Harry. 

“Hey, Leemo.” Harry says, even slower and more intense than usual. 

A spark of tension builds between the three of them, plum bright and full. Niall leans half across the table to steal all the bacon on the plate to add to his wedge. 

When Liam tugs on Niall’s hair and accepts an offer to dance from a muscled raglan tee that’s been eying him for 20 minutes, Harry’s eyes follow the sway of Liam’s hips intently. 

Ah, never mind, then. Niall pulls the wedges back towards himself. Harry’s _hungry_ , then. 

Niall grins into a crispy bite, watching Zayn and Harry watch Liam shimmy against raglan. The maroon of his skirt really is pretty. Niall bets he’s got about 10 minutes before the three of them fuck off to get off. 

Zayn watches the dance floor while chewing on a wedge slowly. Harry practically vibrates under Zayn’s fingers, who looks like he’s planning the best way to make Liam cry tonight. Liam looks really pretty when he cries. Niall bites his nails just enough to disperse the tension he’s picking up, but can’t really do anything with.

Abstractly, Niall can admit that Zayn’s cheekbones could probably cut water and Harry’s lips are a cherry-red that usually comes in a tube. Abstractly, Liam’s legs are smooth and gorgeous and the cowboy hat by the bar has curves like Niall’s prized Gibson. Abstractly, Niall thinks, looking across the bar to watch Louis chug something clear that is definitely not water - abstractly, Louis looks like a poet was unsatisfied with the word vibrant and decided to become a sculptor instead.

Abstractly, Niall can admit a lot of things. The Horns need a new coach, his knee is never gonna not hurt on the stairs, liquor after 4am is a bad idea, and sex sounds cool. Face to face, it’s all overwhelming. Too sharp, like a lemon chaser after a lime jello shot. He can never quite _understand_ the appeal. 

To be honest, Niall thinks, watching a cowboy hat lean into an equally curvy backpocket bandana, sex is kinda messy and inefficient. He can get himself off faster and better than someone else can and then have cuddles without feeling time pressing down or a need distract from the curves and patches and scars of other people. He likes those bits. He likes even more that when he told Harry, Zayn and Liam about it, they didn’t make a big deal of including him in these bits and leaving out the other sticky bits. 

“Love you guys,” Niall says, pitching to be heard over the bass-y mashup on the speakers. They’re still watching the dance floor, have been talking in quiet serious short hand.

“Aw babe, love you too.” Harry and Zayn turn together to pinch at Niall’s cheek and nipple respectively. Idiots. Niall cackles at them.

The dance floor is getting crowded with late term bar-hoppers and one-night-stand hopefuls. Liam is doing some weird sort of shimmy with someone in a skirt just as short as his is. Niall knows Harry and Zayn will slink over soon. They prefer a pick-up before the bar goes wild with last call. And at this point, Liam’s got to be playing with them, since that move is one Niall watches Liam and Harry do together pretty often, post exams or post night outs, when they’re stretched thin on sense.

Zayn quirks a smile like he knows what Niall knows. Probably does. 

“Gonna head out with us, Nialler?” Zayn asks, gently, unpressured. Harry looks on, steady and bright.

Niall shakes his head, purposefully doesn’t look in the direction he can hear Louis shouting about something. It’s feels louder than it should be. Maybe Niall’s developing Louis-specific super hearing. Maybe he’s just in over his head. 

“Naw. Gonna try and figure where Laura and Eoghan went to. Thanks, though.” Niall means it. He appreciates the inclusion even if his own rules and shit are different from theirs. They’ve had a lot of good cuddles post the three of them having fun and Niall having chili. 

Harry comes around the table, still holding onto Zayn’s hand. When they scene, they don’t like to stop touching. It’s sweet. As Harry leans down over Niall, ze pauses for a second to check everything’s kosher. Niall smiles a yeah. Harry smiles back. 

Ze buries Niall in curls, kissing him solidly. Niall sinks back into his chair, let’s Harry push into him, run zir hand along his jawline. Harry thumbs the corner of his jaw, nudges his jaw open so the kiss turns wet and deep. Niall presses a hand to Harry’s tummy, relearns the rhythm of them together. 

The smell of honeysuckle is strong. It’s Harry’s favorite spring perfume. Niall breathes deep, lets his other hand play in Harry’s curls, enjoys the slick familiarity of their mouths. Curling his fingers tight makes ze give a cut off sound against him. Pulling away like ze could only wait so long, ze presses small kisses to Niall’s bottom lip, the dip in the center of his chin. All of their obsessions with his chin, honestly. Niall puts a kiss on Harry’s nose in return, nudges to get zir to pull back a bit. 

Peeking through the sheet of hair around them, Niall can see Zayn looking disgustingly fond. He’s still holding Harry’s hand across the table, alternating between watching them and watching Liam. Who’s probably putting on quite the show by now. 

“You’re a doll, Haz. Leem’s waiting for y’all though.”

Harry flushes, practically wiggles, easy to please when unfocused and intense all over like this. 

“Okay. We can make out when you get home.” Ze says, looking proud of the idea. Laughing, Niall nips a yes onto Harry’s chin, then pushes zir around his chair towards the dance floor. It makes Harry and Zayn’s arms go taut across the table, pulls Zayn half out his chair. Niall sniggers into his shoulder. 

Zayn levels him a look and then manages to slide the rest of the way off his chair smoothly. Hmph. Niall sticks his tongue out as far as he can while still grinning. Around the back of his chair, he can feel Harry still shifting back and forth, waiting as patient as ze’s capable of, for Zayn to say when.

After throwing another look toward the floor, Zayn pulls on his jacket half on with his only free arm. He nabs Harry’s scarf as he comes around the table. While Harry wraps the scarf around zir neck twenty times, Zayn pushes Niall’s hair back from his forehead. 

“Soft,” he says.

Niall exhales. “Thanks.”

Zayn curls up the corner of his annoying perfect mouth and braces himself against the table to press his annoyingly perfect lips to Niall’s temple for a long moment. Niall sinks into it, like it’s a comfy couch, like it’s good gravy, like always. Eyes closed, Niall can still feel when the two of them move off to the floor. 

Niall opens his eyes, sliding down off the stool to dig his wallet out to get the rest of their bill. Caroline’s already left it on the table. Zayn’s dropped 50 on the table and Liam has a tab so Niall drops 30 more and figures that should cut it. He wanders to the pool side of the bar, humming absently to the ABBA remix that’s on. He’ll hafta remember to make fun of Paul later.

The Bobbsey Twins are, in fact, by the messy pool tables, with matching piles of steins and _handfuls of darts_. Fuck, Niall has regrets. He should have gone home. He should have become a farmhand. He should never have had that last drink. It sits uncomfortably in his stomach, wary against the potential danger surrounding him. 

He loves Laura and Eoghan, thinks if he didn’t have the Harry and the boys they’d be his go-tos, his pasta roomies. And Niall is good for a good time, he’s great for a laugh, he’s not having metal punched into his body.

He looks for a quick excuse but there’s no one around he recognizes with a glance. He knows every person this side of the river how the hell is it they all abandon him when he needs them most. 

“Niall!” Laura and Eoghan have spotted him. Shit.

Tipsy hugs and kisses are administered. Niall smiles at then, hugs back, thinks of claiming he just ate some bad pumpkin seeds and needs to go immediately, right away, to throw up a lot. It’s worked before.

Laura and Eoghan have a conversation in eyebrows and gestures. Then, their faces slide into smirky caricatures of themselves. No, Niall thinks vehemently. Not again, no.

“ _Y’all._ ” Niall draws out until he runs out of air, then for good measure tacks on a “Naw.”

“ _Niall,_ ” Laura draws out.

“C’mon. It’ll be fun, I swear.” Eoghan says as he swings an arm over Niall’s shoulder. A trap. A barrier. A method against escape. 

“It’ll be a hoot,” Niall agrees. Eoghan’s arm loosens a bit, sensing weakness. Niall angles himself for a quick escape, “Until someone ends up with a hole in their leg or their arm or their eyebrow.”

Niall uses Eoghan’s guilty pause and Laura’s attention-nabbing cackle to duck away. Where he promptly runs nose first into the side of someone’s face. Niall mutters “Fuckin’ hell,” rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looks up to apologize and then feels all his limbs go loose and warm. 

“It was your left eyebrow, Niall. You never liked that one anyway. You told me so.” Laura’s saying behind him, but Niall’s not paying attention.

He’s still about a hand’s width away from Louis’ face. Louis’ hair slices across his eyebrows. Louis smells sharp. Louis’ eyes look like they could cut him to shreds. It’s pretty cool. Niall basks in the attention for a moment.

“Can I help you with something,” Louis says, an octave away from withering.

Niall smiles, but his hands flutter a little in the tension. Louis is intense this close. “Sorry dude, didn’t mean to –“

“I know you. Professor Kant, Wednesdays, right?” Louis says, not backing down but sinking a bit to slouch back against the table. His eyes are hard under the overhead lights. 

“Yeah!” Niall jitters a vague yes gesture.

There a lull for a moment in the bar soundtrack where Niall can hear Laura and Eoghan chattering on behind him. A sort of awkwardness settles in the air between him and Louis. He feels the need to apologize again, for some reason. Maybe because Louis is still looking stand-offish, a bit like a spooked porcupine. 

Niall knows he’s not usually this bad at swinging up to someone new. He’s knows how to be friendly enough to make strangers feel easy and several drinks into comfortable. He wonders - 

“Sorry I touched you.” Niall says, simple, straightforward, not trying for anything.

Louis looks at him for a moment, a quiet bubble in the jostling noise of the bar. Niall can see the moment where he’s about to play it off, shrug and launch face fist into a different topic. Mouth twisting, Niall frowns. That’s not what he wants Louis to feel he has to do. 

Louis’ cheek twists like he’s biting it, like he’s refraining from snapping back. Finally, he nods. 

The space around Louis relaxes a bit. Niall eases into it carefully. Not wary, but aware. Looking back around, he catches Laura’s eye. She gives him an exaggerated wink and fires a finger gun. He turns back around quickly. 

Louis taps his fingers staccato harsh on the table. Niall takes a step to the side, less penning Louis in to the table, wondering if that’s the problem, and immediately hits his head into someone else’s yet again. Christ. 

Niall starts to turn around to apologize, but arms circle around his waist. A head pops up beside his, pointy chin digging familiar into his shoulder. Oh.

“Hi Harry,” Niall says, resigned. “Thought yall’d already cleared out.” 

Niall thinks wistfully of asking Paul to install an alert system: know when your nosy best friends have actually left the bar so you can avoid embarrassing interaction between them and someone you‘ve been daydreaming about for weeks. It’d be great. Paul’d get so much business. Niall’d get so much rest. 

“Why Nialler, who’s this lovely person?” Harry asks, like ze’s being fucking coy, literally breathing down his neck. 

Niall digs his elbows into Harry’s sides, relishing the yelp he gets in response. Harry bites at Niall’s shoulder.

“ _Very_ lovely.” Zayn says, popping up on Niall’s other side, Liam in tow. 

If anyone asks, Niall is blaming his flush on the extra body heat. 

Louis must pick up on Niall’s embarrassment because he starts to grin. Widely. Honestly, Niall has no idea why he does this to himself. Except that maybe, it feels really nice here, at the center of the four of them, like the world begins and ends at the edges of the misshapen circle they’ve made and somehow that’s okay. It’s not a scary penned in. Niall thinks Louis slots right in, like there was always a spot for him. 

“Louis ‘the Tommo’ Tomlinson.” Louis announces himself with a series of table bangs, like he’s descending a staircase, being introduced to society. 

It gets laughs from all of them. Louis preens like an appreciative audience is all he needs in life. Niall’s sorta glad Harry is draped over him. S’probably what’s keeping him from floating away. He feels so bubbly.

“Nice, dude.” Zayn offers Louis a fist bump, still grinning. 

Niall tenses a little. He has the growing feeling that touching with Louis should be on Louis-doing-the-touching terms. He watches Louis closely. There’s a split second pause where Louis focuses in on Zayn’s face, gauging something. Whatever he finds, he seems okay with, since he reaches out to Zayn easily a second later. But Zayn’s easy to get a feel on, when he’s on. Full body smile, Niall thinks again. 

Niall vows to not bother covering up any of his delight regarding Louis. Not that he would bother much in the first place, but. Doesn’t hurt to be forward in these things. 

Zayn’s introducing the rest of them, tugging on Liam’s shirt hem and Harry’s scarf in turn. 

Louis nods like he knows all of this already. He grabs a fry off the table to point it at Niall and Harry, about to say something when Liam interrupts.

“We’ve all got birds!” he just about shouts. 

Louis closes his mouth. Niall blinks. Harry makes a quiet sound that’s almost lost under Zayn’s sigh. 

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk, Liam.” Zayn says, flicking Liam’s arm. 

“No look, look.” Liam insists, pulling Zayn’s hand and lining it up with his forearm out in front of all of them. “Harry, open your shirt.” 

Louis’ eyebrows rise to his sharp, perfect bangs. Behind Niall, Harry laughs happily and moves away to tug open zir’s buttons. Niall rubs a hand against his temple, then looks around for Caroline. He needs a drink. Catching her eye with a wave, he signs the letters _m-o-j_ , getting to _i_ before she nods. He sends her a two-handed thank you. She waves it off. 

When he turns back around, they’re all comparing tattoos. They do, in fact, all have birdly things. Idiots. 

“So, Ni’s still the only naked one then, huh?” Zayn pinches his nipple. 

“Fuck off, Zayn.” Niall says pleasantly, batting away Zayn’s hand and then Harry’s a second later. 

He looks up to find Louis eying him. The twist of Louis’ eyebrows is easy to interpret. Niall doesn’t bother to raise his arms as Louis reaches out a hand too. Louis pinches hard and he hisses involuntarily. Fucking hell. Louis doesn’t kid around. 

It’s worth it, though, for the bright shout of laughter Louis gives, the way all of them lean in around him and the noise of the bar seems to hum happily outside of their circle. Niall feels like something’s been put together just right that he never noticed needed fixing; a missing board in their fence, a 5th grade art project they never realized could be so much better with just one more color. He lets the moment stretch on. Even if Liam has started in on that time he’d gotten Niall back for all the drunk body-painting, by sharpie-ing all of their names around his neck right before Niall’s 75th hour audit, much to Louis’ avid delight. His adviser hasn’t looked at him the same since, Niall thinks fondly. 

Sometime after Caroline delivers his drink and Zayn’s started in on how much Niall just _loves_ hearing Louis’ contributions to their class discussions, Harry starts fidgeting. Niall tucks his hand into zirs and catches Zayn’s eye. A nod is enough. Zayn pulls Harry close and nudges Liam beside him. 

“Right well, I think we’re bushed. Time to go, bye!” Liam says, utterly, incredibly obvious. Not that Zayn’s huge grin is any less obvious. 

Niall laughs, mimes texting. _I’ll let you know how the going goes._ They salute him back.

Beside him, Louis’ propped his chin in his hand as he watches the three of them zig-zag out the door, a little unsteady trying to stay touching at all times. They may or may not be singing Beyoncé.

“A true inspiration to all of us sadly sans a raunchy, regular threesome.” Louis says, offhand but not uninterested.

“Oh, are you French, then?” Niall can’t resist. Louis sounds like he just stepped straight off a plane from Boston and isn’t planning on staying gone long. 

Louis points a finger at him severely. “Don’t you dare, Goldilocks.”

Niall squints a grin. “They’d let you join,” he says, knows they don’t have any problem with him sharing. More probably, they’d be exasperated he didn’t express their offer with a gold plated, very enthusiastic and respectful formal invitation. The amount of ridiculous wooing that went on when they’d met Liam was something else. 

“But not you?” Louis’ voice is careful, precise folded layers.

Niall picks at the edges of a napkin, argues with his suddenly very tense shoulders. It’s stupid. He wonders if this moment will ever get fucking easier. The bar around them suddenly seems louder, pressing in. 

“Not quite. My thing.” Niall tells the table. “The raunchy part, not the regular –some part.” He waves vaguely like that’ll explain the complexities of _I thought I was broken_ and _they gave me a home_. 

He can feel the weight of Louis examining him for a moment. The napkin makes a crinkly sound under his fingers. 

“I figure that’s fine, Niall.” Louis says, the softest Niall has ever heard him. “And even if I didn’t, what I think doesn’t matter for shit.”

“I care what you think.” Niall says, pulling a pathetic grin at Louis, who’s still watching him.

Louis taps his fingers on the table, matching the bass line of the track playing overhead. “I think,” He says, “That you’re ridiculously great and probably the best bottle blonde I’ve ever seen.” 

Niall slumps into the chair beside him, lets the tension sink out of his bones by holding onto his glass till his knuckles go white. 

“Oh-kay.” Niall says.

“And that’s all you’re getting from me, you shameless dig.” Louis flicks a fry at him. 

Niall’s chest tries to balloon with warmth. “Okay.”

He resists the very strong desire to launch himself at Louis, to spill a wish, a hope, a thanks on the table between them. To tell him, on the 4th of last month, you said something about self-actualization through intimate spaces and I thought about it for days. To kiss him. To hold his hand and possibly never let go.

Niall tucks his fingers firmly around his glass and tries to send every good thought he’s ever had about Louis direct to him with one of his best smiles. 

Louis smiles small, like he’s grateful, but not quite sure how to handle the reprieve. 

Louis who pulls people close but keeps himself at a distance. Louis who comes to class looking like winter, pale and thin, but bursts Christmas red to cover for a tired freshman he doesn’t even know. Louis who acts like he’s got nothing to lose and spare fingers to burn pulling people out of fires, but let’s himself burn out alone because it’s hard to understand how to handle a live wire in your hands.

Louis who maybe also feels like he has to overcompensate something. Louis who maybe feels he has to prove his worth to people on the street, to other students, to gas station attendants. Niall gets it, wishes he didn’t. He thinks of asking his career adviser to look into positions involving complimenting brown haired spitfires, long hours, and few monetary rewards. He thinks he’d be really qualified for that.

There’s a sharp tug on his hair. Niall’s fingertips thrum a bit with happiness. He taps them on the table instead of launching his whole body at Louis. Let’s Louis set their pace. 

“Whatchu thinking about, starshine?”

“Now? Disco satellites.”

Louis smiles at him like he’s a particularly pretty lizard at the zoo. “You’re so weird,” he says, like a compliment.

Niall cackles, grins into his shoulder. “It was these three satellites and they had like 900 mirrors each, right–“ Niall gesticulates 3 satellites and one fiery, mirror metal death, using their glasses and practiced sound effects. 

“Oh.” Louis says, then, “You’re so weird.”

Niall laughs and signals Caroline for another refill. 

“Did you just literally slap your knee?” Louis says like he’s impressed or maybe just tipsy and confused.

“You’re funny.” Niall tells him.

“Of course I am.” Louis presses his drink to Niall’s leg to leave a water circle over the knee in question. Niall smiles down at it, wonders if Louis would have doodled on it instead, if he’d had a pen in his hand. He wonders if he could grab a pen from Paul, just in case. 

The bar is settling into its final gasps, people slosh against each other as they call cabs and declare themselves kings of bottle towers. Niall likes the end stages of night life here. Paul and everyone on staff turn gentle and careful with people, tuck them into cars, tuck their keys behind the desk. But, it can get a little dry, little fidgety ‘what to do now’. 

“What if,” Louis says in a sportscaster voice “I was a ghost?”

Niall is fiercely glad for Louis.

“What if,” Niall says in a news anchor voice “I was a manatee?”

“What if I was an Aggie?” 

The bar seems to hush for a moment and Niall raises his eyebrows, already knew Louis lived life on the edge but is impressed anyway. 

“What if I was named Bill?”

“What if I drank the rest of your mojito?” Louis says, but his face twists like he realizes how far that one went. 

But Niall’s already pushed the glass over towards him. Doesn’t remember deciding to do it. There’s second where he looks at the glass sitting like an offer, like an exit turn off leading to Obviousville, where he could probably pass it off as a joke. But. But, Louis still smells really good and he’s still sharp and taffy sweet, even under layers of standard bar-meet awkwardness and the non-standardness Niall carries with him like a badge. And Niall doesn’t really have the patience for subtlety. 

Niall curls his fingers into his pockets to stop himself from worrying over his nails, and leaves the glass where it is. 

Louis seems to realize things about the same pace Niall does. He stares at the sweating glass for a second, then raises one delicately arched eyebrow at Niall. 

“Honey,” Louis says, twangy and bright. “If you’re tryin’ for smooth, you’re missin’ by ‘bout a country mile.” 

Niall’s body takes the opportunity to go from 0 to 3rd degree flush in a flat second, before his brain can follow the sentence beyond the haze of hearing Louis Tomlinson call him _honey_ , like they met up at a fair for some fried ice cream after their third successful date and have just cleared the endearment trial zone with flying colors. Then the rest of the sentence registers.

“Oh my god.” Niall buries his face in his arm. When that isn’t enough he pulls his shirt to cover his entire head. _Oh my god._ “Oh my god, you fucking yank. Holy shit.” 

Niall’s sorta not getting enough air to be laughing as hard as he is, but it doesn’t really seem to matter. He can’t figure if he’s still embarrassed personally or embarrassed on Louis’ behalf. Probably both. 

“Did you google terrible southern slang? That accent was pitiful. The hell, man.” Niall says, tugging down his shirt again.

Louis’ cackle snaps across the bar. Heads around them turn for a second, smiling like they can’t help it. Niall agrees. Still, he angles himself a little closer to Louis. 

“Got you good for a second though, hm,” Louis says cloying, pinching Niall’s cheek. 

Niall grins so hard he can feel it in his temples. “You did. You’re good at that, the presence thing.” He flaps a hand.

“Drama,” Louis says, weighed, like there’s something more than a memory behind it. Niall nods in agreement. Wants briefly to ask Louis to ask him about music theory, so he can lay his own weight down beside Louis’, say _me too_. 

There’s a puff of breath against the back of Niall’s neck. 

Niall jerks forward and nearly manages to upend the glasses, the plate and the table, all in one go. He lands half on Louis, who knocks into the table with a hiss. A few fries leap for freedom onto the floor.

“Fucking shit,” Louis says, loudly, right next to Niall’s ear.

“What the fuck,” Niall jerks around to say, loudly, at the jerkwad behind him. 

One of the new staff guys is standing there, his hands raised in supplication. Like that’s gonna save him from the combined what-the-fuck coming from the both of them. Niall had thought his name was Travis, not Creature of the Night.

“Sorry, I just – “ Supposedly Travis stumbles under the force of both Niall and Louis. Good teamwork, friend, Niall thinks back towards Louis. “Paul said to tell you it’s 25 to 3.”

He looks over both of them, and Niall realizes he’s still pressed back against Louis. He’s warm and softer than he looks, incredibly comfortable and comforting. Shoot. Niall pulls away, gives Louis a small apologetic smile.

“Okay, thanks. Next time, maybe -?” Niall says pointedly.

“Yeah, course, sorry.” Supposedly Travis toddles off.

Niall shakes himself out. His startle reflex is not his favorite thing about himself. Paul’ll probably think it’s hilarious. Niall is surrounded by banana peels.

Louis makes a quiet sound beside him. When Niall turns, Louis’ whole face is pinched, unhappy. He frowns in return.

“You can –“ Louis’ says, voice strung tight across the distance. “I don’t mind if you, I just don’t like. I have to know – I don’t want some random asshole – “ Louis starts and stops, like a failing engine on the 35. 

Niall gets the distinct feeling people take a look at Louis, bursting his way through doors and discussions and life, and reach their limbs out and gun Louis too hard, too fast, very often. It makes him sober sad. Makes him think, oh and _Lou_. 

He thinks he could say – I know that, could say demisensual, could say you don’t have to defend yourself to me and I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel like you had to. But, he doesn’t think that’s what Louis wants. Tense and tipsy Louis with a million sharp words and a million ways to glare fuck you, standing withdrawn beside their table like he’s waiting for a eulogy. Like he’s waiting for Niall to snot up, ask why, ask for explanations, add emotional distress to distress. 

Niall doesn’t feel pity, because there’s nothing to pity. He does feel empathy, feel like he wants to work at making a space beside himself where Louis can feel comfortable and not obligated to ever touch or be touched unless he wants to.

Niall waits a moment, before he nudges closer, says quietly, just for Lou, under the off-white bar lights, the weight of understanding someone at 2 am, “So just specific assholes then. Nice and rosy-pink assholes with blon – “

Niall dissolves into giant, near painful HAs of joy as Louis attacks Niall’s vulnerable sides with a vibrant grin and evil, evil fingers. Niall struggles mostly for appearance sake. Louis looks bright and focused and brilliant and Niall feels a bit high from breathlessness but also from watching him.

Louis is damn ruthless, though. He digs his fingers into Niall’s sides, unerringly finding that place on his hips that’s always so sensitive like Louis’ tuned to it. Probably a super power, Niall thinks curled halfway on the table shaking and trying to breathe ineffectively.

They end up tangled together against the bar stool as Niall rides out waves of giggles and Louis presses his smile to the side of the chair back like that’ll prevent anyone within a 10 mile radius from seeing it. Louis’ smug, but probably not as smug as Niall is.

Niall lets his breathing ease down from racehorse to marathon before he says, “I like you.” 

It’s easy to smile into it, unabashed.

Beside him, still pressed to the chair and wrapped up in a space all their own, Louis freezes like he’s surprised. Which is just honestly ridiculous. Niall _shared his mojito_ , for fuck’s sake. Course, Louis is from Boston. Maybe he doesn’t know the language of sacred alcohol sharing. Maybe he thinks Niall shares his alcohol with everyone. What a nightmare. But -

Louis boops Niall’s nose. “Me,” he demands.

“You,” Niall agrees.

Niall feels like those blooming flower time lapses Harry loves so much. Can feel himself opening up too much, too fast in the face of Louis’ unrelenting, steady focus. But - he’s not gonna compare Louis to sunlight, that’s too corny. Or maybe. Maybe just too soon.

Louis covers his face with his hand like he can sense corniness. Another superpower, maybe. His limbs untangle from Niall’s gently. The mojito on the table goes to Louis’ hand, to Louis’ very pretty mouth. Niall looks away, orders himself to calm down.

“You too.” Louis says. 

Niall pulls back from watching Paul nearly carry someone out the door as Caroline watches on, amused. 

“Huh?” 

“Zayn said I was the subject of much more studying than actual coursework. I – you too.” Louis shrugs it off, flicks his bangs in a practiced swish. 

Niall orders himself to calm down again. “You were watching me. You were looking.” Niall digs.

“Don’t get cocky, it’s unbecoming.” Louis says, disdainful.

Niall leaves his hand where Louis can easily each out and take it if he wants. “You love it.”

Louis huffs, looking away. He flicks condensation at Niall, but his finger traces over the side of Niall’s hand, all the way down to his fingers. He pauses for a moment and Niall holds as still as he can when it feels like he’s revving with happiness, ready to hurl off the track with it. Louis uncurls his other fingers, takes an age to lace them slowly with Niall’s. He tugs them both to standing, pulls their palms together. Niall smiles so hard his face hurts. 

“Alright.” Louis says.

“Yeah?” Niall asks.

“Yeah.” Louis squeezes Niall’s hand like he’s testing the give of it, learning the edges of it, how he can best curl his fingers with it. Niall grins down, watching. 

Louis digs out his wallet, waving off Niall when he tries to tug out his too. 

“Thanks, you don’t have to.”

Louis squeezes his hand, tugs. They start towards the door, Niall saying goodbye to Caroline, who stares down Louis and then gives Niall a look. He shrugs, grins. Caroline rolls her eyes. Paddy’s at the far corner of the bar, shutting down all the AV but Paul waves back at Niall as he and Louis pass. Louis grins like Niall’s bar staff familiarity is a compliment to himself. 

“Shall we leave this town behind? Race right off the cliff? Head for the stars? Start a moon cow colony?” Louis says

Niall folds over with laughter. “Gonna need a spare knee if we’re doing that much walking.” But yes, Niall thinks. _Yes._

Louis draws them up short behind a couple pulling on their jackets, blocking the door. “You okay?” he says, cautious.

“Yeah, just a thing. Old before my age, you know.” Niall winks. It’s no big deal, really. But he does tend to drive more than other students this side of campus. 

The couple finally gets their noodle limbs into their sleeves and moves on out. Louis still looks considering. 

“What?”

“I’m over on 12th.” Louis says.

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Louis wrinkles his nose. 

It’s not too far. Seven blocks isn’t a huge deal but Niall’s had a bit to drink and it’s late and he gets cranky and well, hills. 

Niall lets the door shut behind them on Paul’s, looks down the street at all the other bar stragglers, wonders if they don’t want the night to end as much as he doesn’t. He aches for this slow steadiness he and Louis have nudged and laughed their way to tonight. He wants to imprint the shape of Louis’ hand into his. Wants this to last.

“Right well. Change of plans.” Louis announces. 

Niall bites his lip, grips Louis’ hand tighter like that will delay the inevitable. 

“Hop on.” 

“Huh?” 

Louis tugs his hand away and turns around, knees bent slightly. He grabby hands back towards Niall.

Niall watches him for a second. The image of Louis’ face after he’d bumped into him the first, the second time, overlaps with Louis waiting impatiently in front of him. Right outside one of Niall’s favorite places, after sliding in perfectly with his favorite people, Louis holds his trembling hands out for Niall to take. 

They’re both such idiots. 

Niall launches himself at Louis. He lands only a bit awkwardly, Louis’ huffing loudly and adjusting his grip to the top of Niall’s thighs easily. Everything feels giddy and bright. The streetlights Niall must’ve passed thousands of times seem just a little bit orange-r, a little more welcoming. 

Niall settles in close, wraps his arms easily around Louis’ solid shoulders. It doesn’t feel familiar yet, but Niall hopes. Hopes that’ll change, soon. 

“We’re gonna go on an adventure, sunshine.” Louis says, loud enough to turn heads across the street and hitches Niall up higher.

Niall hides a smile against the warm safety of Louis’ neck and thinks _okay_ , thinks _please_. 

 

.

 

Niall wakes up with no idea where he is. Grass is poking him insistently in the ear and there’s the distant sound of water and something loud and lawn mow-y. Makes him think maybe Barton Springs. Oh well, that’s fine for now, he figures. 

Pressed tight along his side and half on top of him is a drooling, pale Louis. Niall reminds himself he should find that gross and not kinda endearing and funny. 

Louis has unicorn stickers stuck along his arms like glitter smoking patches. Niall digs out his phone. It’s still got 32%. That’s good news, if they ever wanna move. Really, Niall’s not opposed to building a house right here in the pretty, dewy grass. Harry would love it, flower crowns all day.

Niall snaps a picture of the two of them, lying close enough that the brown of Louis’ hair mixes with the brown of Niall’s roots. Then retakes the shot from more of an angle so the rising sun does cool sunburst things in the corner. 

“You look good, Lou. Real morning material. The earth says hello.” Niall sings.

Louis mumbles something back that may or may not have to do with tacos. Niall’s probably in love with him. 

He send the shot to the group, asks, _Tacos ?_ then settles down to wait. 

He’s got time.

**Author's Note:**

> I id as both ace and trans but if you found anything in here you feel is misrepresentative or gross please feel free to call me out, here or on [tumblr](http://imlikenah.tumblr.com) etc!
> 
> Starshine is an actual space project including satellites with ~900 mirrors each. Others of you may know starshine from the Hair song instead. Both are pretty disco and pretty Niall, imho.
> 
> Again, v thanks to the exchange mods for their endless sweetness and patience. Y’all are so lovely.


End file.
